Redemption
by down-right-mystical
Summary: Severus Snape thinks about the mission he has set himself, one which he knows he may never complete. All he can do is try.


I so had to write this. I couldn't help it; this song is just so . . . perfect for a Snape fic that it was something I knew, if written right could be amazing, Now I'm not saying this is, you can decide on that for yourself, but seeing as no one else appears to have written it, at least I haven't read it, I thought I'd have a shot.

This is my first Snape fic, so I'd like to know what you think of my characterization so I know what I need to work on should I decide to write another one sometime. I'm not saying I'm going to write another Snape fic anytime soon though, 'cause I have loads of other story ideas that may be coming soon, as well as all the work still left to do on my two one-going fics. I have at lease six other ideas (Although some of them are one offs) in the works. In fact, I may even have seven. I'm not completely sure. Anyway that has no relevance here (I'm just going off on a tangent as usual...).

Also, some general advice on if my Snape acts realistically would be greatly appreciated because this is Severus Snape as I like to imagine him, not how he is in the books, so I'd like to know how he fits in with the Severus Snape that you know.

This fic is based on The Callings song 'We're Forgiven' which I think is about homeless people (does anyone know for sure? Please tell me), but whatever. The lyrics are still perfect for what I have in mind and I can promise that you do not need to know the song to appreciate them (although it may help).

Oh yeah, and I suppose I should thank Sophie (Luthien-culmy) who is (she says and I quote): "my bestest bestest friend," who introduced me to The Calling in the first place. Please read her story if you have time. She is getting depressed because the only reviews she has are from her friends. I do keep telling her it's a two-way street . . . (sorry Soph!). But her story is a nice change from the norm and she deserves recognition for her work and the originality in ideas yet to come.

Also thanks to Chess whose Snape in 'Saving Slytherin' gave me enough ideas to help the Snape you see in this fic to truly come alive -- she deserves recognition for her fantastic work too. Anyway, that's enough plugging other people, so here goes. . .

Disclaimer: All the characters mentioned belong to the genius that is J.K Rowling and I'm not earning anything from this 'cause she deserves all the profits. The song belongs to Alex Band and Aaron Kamin of The Calling.

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**Redemption**

Severus Snape was not a cowardly man. He was about as far from it as you could possibly get. But recently he had been wondering, now more so than ever, how he had come to be that way, as images of his young self, cowering in a corner, with tears pouring in streams down his face while his parents argued above him, with his mother screaming in pain as his father slapped her hard across the face; swam into his head.

Looking back at the years since he had left Hogwarts he found it hard to believe that same child had grown up to do the things he had done; that he had ever had the Power to commit such heinous crimes as those he was guilty of. And then to find the Power to do what was perhaps the most dangerous thing anyone could do -- turn spy against the Dark Lord, was incredible.

But now parts of him were beginning to wonder if he had even a smidgen of that Power left.

Several years had now passed since he had last needed use of it and it appeared to have faded, shrunk down and folded in upon itself, settling down for a long, perhaps permanent, sleep. He hoped against hope that it had not gone completely.

For one day, he knew he would need use of it again.

He did not kid himself; He knew the Dark Lord was not dead, weak? Yes. Defeated? Yes . . . but only for now. One day however, he would be strong once again.

He of all people should know the steps Voldemort had taken to prevent death. And he, unlike many, saw the truth behind the rumours, the shadows of the dormant past, waiting to pounce again.

Then he would need to feel its comforting presence, to know he had the Power within him; the Power to manipulate the worst of circumstances to suit his own ends. To worm his way out of tricky situations that to other would hold unimaginable terrors, yet to him that would be everyday life, as they had been in the past, and would one day be again.

He did not complain though. He refused to think that he had a raw deal in life, because this was the path he had chosen and he thought he deserved. He was trying to find redemption for the horrors in his past and he knew that such a task would not be easy.

Even now, with no war raging, he still had a task that he hoped would help him a little further along his journey. Now, while he could no longer actively fight for the downfall if the dark side he would attempt to hinder its progress in another way.

And so he had turned his attention to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Here, as the very basis of the future of the Magical community in Britain, was where he would continue his mission.

The students of today were, after all, the adults of tomorrow and they were where you needed to look to stop the past repeating itself.

During his own years at the school he had noted the enmity between the school houses, especially the feud between himself and a certain group of Gryffindors. Then he had been jealous. They were everything he had longed to be, they had the greatest friendship anyone could wish for, but Black had thrown all that away. Now, as he watched their lives as they crumbled apart, he considered himself the lucky one.

Once he was teaching at Hogwarts he really saw how common such a situation as the one if his school years was. How he was by no means the first or the last to be scorned upon by the 'mighty' Gryffindors.

He did not really pay much attention to the subject he taught, and he did not really spend much time thinking about it. Most of the students did not give a damn about potions and he knew as much. They didn't appreciate it; they would never understand the subtle science and exact art of potion making -- the beauty behind the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes. Very few ever did and he took delight in telling them as much. For some reason it made him feel special, unique, to be one of so few . Of course he was still unique. After all, no one betrayed Voldemort. But that was not his life's story and he did not want to be remembered for it. Severus Snape would not go down in history merely as the man who betrayed the Dark Lord. He would dearly have liked to change his students, to change their opinions of the subject he loved, but that was not why he had taken the job. He considered his position to be more that of a 'Watcher'. He was watching over his students, his Slytherins', trying to subtly prevent them from making the same mistakes he had.

Nobody really saw it; not even Dumbledore, but Severus saw what promise these students held.

_Well I would like to think,_

_That the world hasn't seen,_

_That all the best is still to come. . ._

The world had seen the power of Slytherin house, but they had not seen the best of it, merely the worst, and none of the potential for good that lingered beneath the surface. This was something that Severus was determined to bring out and display to the world with pride, to show them how mighty his Slytherins were.

_And I know life ain't easy. . ._

Of course he knew it would be hard. How could it not be? Many of them were already too far gone, taking pride in following the battered paths of their predecessors; they were the ones the rest of the school saw and so they were all tarred with the same stereotypical brush.

_I pass them sleeping on the streets_

_Their bloodstained hands and dirty feet. . ._

But now that path led them all to their dooms as they reached the edge of the cliff and fell, to be ripped apart on the jagged rocks below, where they ended up broken and battered, mere shells of what they could've been. They ended up as the proof that the powerful house of Salazar Slytherin was falling, just as the man himself had done so many years ago.

_And I can't ignore them_

_Anymore than I already have. . ._

Yet the world was blind. The noble, oh so valiant, Gryffindors; the clever, eager Ravenclaws and the kind hearted, patient Hufflepuffs; they all turned a blind eye and pretended it wasn't happening, at times thinking that they deserved it, that maybe it would make them think twice about following that path again.

_So we laugh, and we smile,_

_And we play our games of sweet denial,_

_But don't tell me we're forgiven._

But Severus could no longer pretend, For too long had he watched them fall, making the mistakes he was so desperate to prevent, Still, that didn't make him better than all those who could not see the fate of Slytherin. Or, for that matter, those who knew of it but did nothing. After all, his mission was not a selfless one. If it were not for the mission, he would be just like them. It didn't mean he was forgiven for ignoring them before now.

_If we hold all our breath,_

_If we kneel right down and just repent,_

_You can't tell me we're forgiven._

Everyone was just giving in. They were all just letting it pass them by, letting happen and hoping that someone else would take on the responsibility. Sure they felt slightly guilty about it, but it wasn't enough, it didn't give any of them enough drive to try and change the pattern. Even he wondered why he bothered sometimes. It seemed like such a fruitless mission and he wondered why he was wasting his time. He had got out of it on its own, why couldn't they? Yet deep down he knew he would never give up on his Slytherins. They did not have the Power he did, the will to survive. They needed him. Yet to save even one. . . It would be a miracle.

_Start with me,_

_I cannot lie,_

_When my heart doesn't follow my eyes. . ._

Sometimes he couldn't help it, the pain became too much and occasionally he too had to become naive, just like all the rest, turning away and acting as if they didn't exist.

_Turn away from all the suffering_

_That surrounds,_

_Our time on this Earth. . ._

Everyone went through troubles, he knew, some far greater than others it was true, but problems none the less. It was a fact of life – the test, before the fall of the final blow. Some though, the ones that were substantially bigger than the rest, cause even more difficulties – nervous breakdowns, insanity, even death.

Suffering. It was one of the main words in the life of a Slytherin. Whether feeling it themselves, or inflicting it on others, it was always there. Waiting . . .

_For some there life has been a curse. . ._

His thought turned to those he had once considered friends, stuck in the living hell that was Azkaban. There would be no peace of them, trapped inside their own heads, captured by the wondrous horrors of their past, entangled in their own thoughts, never escaping the noise the schizophrenia in their own minds.

_I say I'm sorry and I should change,_

_You know it just could be me someday._

It could've been him. It would've been him. But unlike them he had learned of good and evil and he had changed.

But it all led back to the same thing: the Power he had in such quantities and that they had none of. That and of course the ignorance of the innocent. Then there were the other forms of power, the more material kind. The type that Slytherins so strived for.

Severus smiled grimly as he remembered one of the Dark Lord's favourite speeches: "There is no good or evil, only power . . . and those to weak to see it."

How very wrong he was.

There were such things as good and evil. Not in the stereotypical black and white 'good versus evil' way. But they still existed. Making up the black and white of the world with their shades of grey.

Severus had to hand it to the Dark Lord though. He was right about power. Not in the way he intended of course, but there was still truth in those words. Most people were too weak to see power. Not understanding, just as the Dark Lord didn't understand that it was not about whom you knew, or how many supporters you have. It's about you and what's inside of you. How much of that Power you have inside of you.

The power that Slytherins wanted led them all to ruin and right back to the beginning of the cycle, surrounded by the blindness, helplessness and pain.

All over again.

_So we laugh, and we smile,_

_And we play our games of sweet denial,_

_But don't tell me we're forgiven._

_If we hold all our breath,_

_If we kneel right down and just repent_

_You can't tell me we're forgiven,_

_There's no way out of here. . ._

He searched, and he searched again, but all in vain. HE could not find a way to end the torment of the cycle. One man alone was not enough.

I don't want to die, and leave it all behind. . .

Each day the pain built up, his body and mind screamed at him to let them rest, to be at Pease. But he would not stop until he had proven that his Slytherins could be strong for all the right reasons.

_Each day a part of me disappears,_

_But who am I to judge what has been sent from above?_

Every blow, every student he failed to save, hit like the blow of an axe, taking that little bit more away, pushing him one step closer to being an empty shell, still following the path of his predecessors, no matter how hard he tried to change.

But it was the path he had chosen and now he was paying the price and suffering for the times he could no longer bear to watch.

_We can laugh, we can smile,_

_We can play our games of sweet denial,_

_But don't tell me we're forgiven. . ._

One day it would all change. Then they would see. See how wrong they were. See how it wasn't right. Then they would realise. . .

We can't laugh, we can't smile,

When so much just ain't right,

It can't go on forever. . .

If we hold, our breath,

If we kneel right down and repent,

You can't tell me we're forgiven, no.

You can't tell me we're forgiven. . .

Someday, someone would see.

Someday the world would change.

Until that day, Severus would just rely on his will to survive. On the Power within him. His Power.

But what that Power is?

What it all comes down to?

It's quite simple really.

It's courage .

So, um, yeah. Courage. Dunno where that came from. It wasn't planned or anything, it just kinda crept in. One of those things, y'know?

Did it turn out okay though?

Please rr!

If you're interested about when updates for my other fics may be appearing, check my profile page – I update it regularly with estimates about when new chapters or stories will be appearing and such like.

Loz

x-x-x

P.S. No more updates for Beyond the Veil (apart from chapter four, which will be coming so – more info on my bio!) until I get some for this! I know that's blackmail, but y'know. . . I wanna know what you think of this first!

P.P.S. Also, I wouldn't mind some reviews for The Confessions of Adele Bryant. . . I've only had two since I updated :(

Please RR all of them!!!!!!!! Thx!!!!!!!!


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